


The Quiet Uptown

by OneFrustratedWriterPerson



Series: A Host of Golden Daffodils [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7336705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneFrustratedWriterPerson/pseuds/OneFrustratedWriterPerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They take her. They don't get her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quiet Uptown

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song, It’s Quiet Uptown, by Lin-Manuel Miranda from the Tony Award-winning musical, Hamilton.  
> WARNING: For those unfamiliar with my work, please know that this is a tragedy. Full of angst and love lost. It poured out—literally (I couldn’t stop writing even if I wanted to)—when I listened to the song mentioned above.

_Home_. He didn't think he’d ever have one. Wouldn't have thought it was even possible for a man like him. _God’s righteous man_ , he’d said, _pretending you could live without a war_. Seventy years on ice. Asleep. A mere twenty four years alive before that. He was a soldier in every sense of the word. They built him to be their ultimate weapon. An ace in their pocket. Nothing more. Only a handful of people trying to convince him otherwise—that he was still Steven Grant Rogers, the scrawny nobody from Brooklyn, but also Captain America. The man with the plan. The first Avenger. Sometimes, he wonders what would’ve it been like if he’d stayed behind and worked in the factories as Bucky wanted. _Probably died young from pneumonia_ , he thought resignedly. He knows there’s no point for what ifs and maybes. Time had been cruel in that regard. But he had managed to survive. So had Bucky. And the Avengers have been this strange family since his return. Even SHIELD, before it had all gone to hell, gave him reason to move on in this new world. But he’d never thought he’d have this. He wasn't near lucky enough, nowhere near worthy enough. For all the horrors he’d seen. For all the lives he took. He didn't deserve any of this. 

_Home_. He knew what it meant once upon a time. Recalls the fond, exasperated eyes of his mother as she tended to his bruises. The way Bucky would rough him up after he’d mindlessly take on guys twice or thrice his size. 

_Home_. He remembers now. Drowns in it now. The way she would look at him with such devotion. Such love. He could see it as if it were yesterday. Her walking towards him in a simple white dress. Hot red shoes. Her saying ‘I do’ like they were the only words that made sense. How his heart was struggling to burst from his chest with such emotion. Bucky looking on with joy. Natasha with her signature smirk. He had a wife that loved him. A wife who challenged him head on. Made him laugh until he was gasping for air. Taught him to live in the present. Taught him to treasure the past. To look forward to a new day. 

_Home_. Seeing Darcy curled up beside him when he woke up every morning. Drooling on the pillow. Freshly baked cookies and pies on warm, sunny days. Hot chocolate flavored kisses. Spontaneous trips to Coney Island. He’d never felt as free before. In moments like these he could forget everything else. He was just Steven Grant Rogers to her, with her, with them. Her husband. He doesn't think he’d ever get tired of hearing it. Of savoring it. 

_Home_. Three years. It took them three, hard-won years to get to where they were. Both of them were stubborn for sure. Him with his need to protect her. Her with her need to make him happy. He wouldn't change any of it, he realizes that now. Things happen for a reason. He missed the most part of the the twentieth century for a reason. And if it took ninety nine years for him to get here, to fall in love with her, then he figures it’s worth it. He’s finally home after all.

 

_Love._ Unconditional. Absolute. Is this what it’s really like, she wonders. She didn't think it was ever possible. To love someone this much. So pure and unadulterated. A simple, incontestable truth. Scary. Terrifying how she’d end up loving her more than the person she decided to spend the rest of her life with. But she sees the adoration in her husband’s eyes, and knows she isn't the only one. The small bundle in her arms move. Mouth opening in the most adorable yawn she’s even seen. Blue eyes staring back at hers. Like hers. Like Steve’s. She swallows a sob. He holds her tighter because he understands. _Of course he does_ , she thinks, _she’s half his_. The slope of his nose. The blonde wisp on her head. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

_Love_. Happy tears race down the sides of her face. Her husband wipes them away. He’s crying too, she realizes. Too overjoyed. Too much in love already. And she knows he’d give them the world if he could. Between him and the rest of the Avengers, she doubts their daughter would even have to ask for anything. She’d let them, of course, but they’d teach her too, she knows. How to value what she has. How to break the boundaries of science. And, god forbid, how to render a man unconscious with her thighs. She could see it now. So much clearer than the months before. Now that she's actually here. Actually in her arms. God. She’d never want to let go. 

_Love_. Too precious. Too innocent for this world of aliens and evil men. They’d protect her. All of them would. They’d burn everything to the ground if need be. She’d light the fire herself. _Enough—this isn't the time for that._

_Love._ Sarah. Sarah Margaret Rogers. Named after two equally wonderful women in her husband’s life, now her’s as well. She relinquishes her hold on her, passing the hours old infant to her eager husband. Steve looks to her in awe. Sarah seemed so little in his arms. Arms so strong yet gentle. He sings to her. An old Irish lullaby his mother taught him. When he finishes, he kisses her with trembling lips. He thanks her again and again. She indulges him and thanks him in turn. 

_Love_. The rest of the them enter quietly, and sees her nestled in her father’s arms. They already love her too, she could tell. Gone for her just like her parents. Overwhelming. Jane hugs her tightly, proudly. And from the corner of her eye, she sees James tear up at the sight of his best friend. She didn't think she’d be this fortunate. This blessed. What orphan would’ve ever imagined having a family like hers. They all shed happy tears together. And not for the first time, she’s grateful for fate, or destiny, or whatever it was that brought her here in the first place. How she (Jane, really) was meant to have hit Thor with the van when she did. How she was meant to have tazed him. How she was destined to have faced off against dark elves threateningto conquer the universe and survive. To have stumbled upon her quirky hodgepodge of a family. Maybe they were inevitable. Maybe some things just are. She thanks her lucky stars again (and again), looking forward to what’s in store for her.

 

_Unimaginable._ She was only a child. No more than a toddler starting to learn about the world. They take her while they were away. Killing most that tried to stop them. A small army. FRIDAY explained, videos bombarding the screens. They brought in a small army to take her away. To break them. To break him. Her. It’s funny. She doesn't think they’d even thought about her. Considered how losing her only child would destroy her. _Let them_ , she begs, _let them torture me until I forget my own name_. _Just give her back—please. Just give my baby back—_ It’s no use being hysterical. She’d been inconsolable the moment she understood what they were saying. Not anymore. Natasha has taught her better. She manages to repress every emotion, every tear. She becomes ice. Cold and unforgiving. _Let them see what a mother could do for her child._

_Unimaginable._ She puts her skills into use. She hacks the Pentagon, the FBI, CIA, Interpol, hacks all the global satellites she could. Firewalls fall as she parts seas and seas of data, FRIDAY at her side. Minutes tick by. Hours. They were running out of time. She hears Steve’s terse commands, hears the despair and fear beneath them, but can’t bring herself to stop. Stop looking. Stop her fingers from typing. Stop pretending that she’s as strong as he is. 

_Unimaginable._ That she’d stay behind once they found out where they were hiding her. Steve desperately wants to refuse her, keep her safe with Jane and Pepper in the tower, but he understands her need to act far more than any of them. She’d been trained after all. They fly across the ocean. Storm clouds following where they went. They waste no time. They infiltrate the compound, assigning a section to each person. It was too big. Too well hidden. And they were already running out of time. She flies through the narrow hallways with eery determination. Cold blooded rage. Desperation. It’s fitting that she’s the one who discovers where they were keeping her. Intuition, she figures. Mothers had that they said. She doesn't know if it was a blessing or a curse, the unexplainable pull that led her to this place, but she knows she’ll spend the remaining years of her life haunted by what she sees. 

_Unimaginable._ Her perfect angel. The light of her world. The joy of her life. _Sarah_. Innocent, sweet, little Sarah. Strapped on metal table with needles in her thin arms. Small canisters filled with blood beside her. Her blood. Steve’s blood. _God_. So much red. Her vision floods with red. The three men on guard meet her bullets even before they’re aware of her presence. Two die quickly. She asks the third what they did to her daughter. Laughter. Blood coating his crooked teeth, his lips. He says words that makes her shoot him in the head. Twice. _You were never gonna get her back._

_Unimaginable._ A quiet cry of pain. She rushes to her daughter, and tells the rest of them what she’s found. Steve already running to where they were. Helen asking her to report her vitals. She works on getting the blood back into her pale body. Too much lost. Not enough time. Blue eyes open and water at the sight of her mother. Hidden emotions swell. Her constructed walls crumble before her daughter’s trusting eyes. She holds her as tight as she could. Kissing her. Reassuring her. _Mommy’s here,_ her voice threatening to break, _daddy too. We’re gonna take you home, sweetheart._ Sarah hugs her back fiercely, weakly, and tells her how tired she was. _I know, love, but you have to stay awake, okay? For mama. Just until we get home._ The stark contrast of red against her daughter’s white skin mock her with how much they’ve suffered. Steve rasped with effort. He’s almost there. Distantly, she hears the loud clang of his shield. The mechanical whine of Tony’s repulsors. Hulk’s thunderous roar. She focuses on her daughter’s breathing. In and out. Her heartbeat. Sarah asks her to sing. How could she refuse her? She tells her little girl to sing along.

_The sun will come out tomorrow_

_Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow_

_There’ll be sun_

She chokes back the sobs clawing at her throat. Relishing in hearing the sweet voice of her Sarah, their angel. 

_The sun will come out tomorrow_

_So you got to hang on 'til tomorrow, come what may!_

She lets out a breathless, pathetic laugh as her voice cracked with emotion. Tears rushing down her face. 

_Tomorrow, tomorrow,_

She’d continued to sing long after her little girl had stopped. Singing in a strangled whisper. Willing her to sing back. She holds her as tight as she can. Strokes her hair the way she’d used to as she fell asleep. 

_I love you tomorrow_

_You're only a day away_

Steve bursts into the room at the end of her refrain. Breathing heavily as he takes in the dingy room where his family was. Numb steps. Stumbling. Clumsy. The shield falls to the floor uselessly. Tossed aside without a thought. He wasn't Captain America then, staring at his devastated wife. Staring at his daughter in her arms. All breath rushes out of his chest. He remembers the brutal winters of his youth. Struggling to keep air in his lungs. In and out. He falls to his knees. Uncomprehending. Defeated. Darcy’s cries echo in his ears. He screams. Again and again. Cries. Sobs. Again and again. With her. For her. 

_Unimaginable_. What life without her would be. A reality too horrible to fathom.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I promised a happy story this time around, but I got caught up with the awesomeness that is Hamilton and I just couldn't help myself. I’ve never been that resentful of living half way around the world. But, oh, what I’d do to go to Broadway right now. Like, I’d probably end up having to sell my liver and kidney for a ticket though. Hmm…priorities, priorities. Anyway, I whole-heartedly recommend listening to the cast recording album if you’re as unfortunate as I am. My favorites include One Last Time, such a beautiful chocolate man voice, and Stay Alive (reprise), for obvious reasons. Here’s to hoping I get back on track with the rest of my writing plans.


End file.
